


Star shine lights the way

by Crystal_Mazes_Lovely_Corner



Series: Moon beams [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Circus, Domestic Fluff, Gangs, M/M, Polyamory, Space Cowboys - Freeform, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-03-20 10:51:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18991192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystal_Mazes_Lovely_Corner/pseuds/Crystal_Mazes_Lovely_Corner
Summary: He tapped at it a few times before growling and spitting into the sink. Bobby waited a moment, knowing he wouldn't have to ask what's wrong."Jordan's com have been canceled," he said after his mouth was clear.Bobby felt his eyebrows shoot up. "That doesn't seem in character," he said, the first thing that came to mind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Udunie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udunie/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVELY I have been asking this wonderful woman to do editing and reading every week, something she has excelled at. She has done so much for me and she deserves all the love.
> 
> To keep this a treat, LaughingCat was the editor for this, who was thorough and amazing! (All typos are from phone posting at this time)

Jordan could tell that this wasn’t going to be a pleasant meeting. Not everyone had been called to office, a few of the old guard, some of them as old as the circus troop itself, plus a few people that Jordan had deemed the 'uppity group.' Those were the performers that were often loud and complained that they weren't getting what they were owed. Jordan sometimes felt similarly, but he wasn't about to risk getting on the ringleader’s bad side. He just wanted to do his job, swing and fly in the air. He didn't want to rock the boat, especially after what had happened on Maltros. 

The ringleader was standing behind his desk, papers strewn across the surface like he had literally cast them aside in a fit. Right now he looked calm and collected, but his hand was clutched tightly to the back of his chair. Two of the strong men were standing by his side, and Jordan had no doubt they were meant to be his protection. 

They were about to be fired. 

The ringleader cleared his throat. "Now, I'm sure you're all aware that we've been having a bit of trouble over these past few months," he started in a gruff voice. "We need to make room for some fresh faces, and boost our reserves." His eyes locked onto Jordan, displaying a wince he wasn't able to hide. "I'm afraid I have to let you go."

The clamour that rose up cut off his next words, the others converging on him as a cold dread made its way through Jordan. One of the guards slammed a hand on the table, making people jump back. "As I was saying, you will all be given severance, as well as enough money to make it back to your families. We're not just dumping you in the middle of nowhere." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'll give you three hours to pack your things and say your goodbyes, but that is the end of the matter, no further discussion." 

The guard shuffled the group toward the door, everyone grumbling and some of the uppity group shouting. Jordan felt the threat of tears, but he tried to hold himself back. He could do that in his room, there wasn't much to pack up anyway. 

"One moment, Jordan," The ringleader called. Jordan flinched, cautiously turning back around. He waved for Jordan to sit across from him as he sat down. Jordan held himself uncomfortably still under his gaze, crossing his legs over themselves, not knowing what to expect, or how well he would take whatever came. "I'm sorry, my boy," the man sighed. A flash of anger spread through him, he hoped it didn't show. "You are one that I truly regret losing. But there are going to be some changes around here, and I... I can't let you stay with them being implemented. I'm sorry." He held out a paper envelope, placing it in front of Jordan with an air of finality. 

Jordan didn't move to pick it up right away. "Please," he started, not sure what he was going to say, but knowing that he had a chance to play off of the man's sympathy. "I just want to do my job, sir. It's none of my business how you run yours. I just want to perform."

"I know, Jordan," he sighed, "I wish I could tell you so that you could understand, but I don't want to burden you. That will get you a little further than the others, get yourself back to the capital, go back to your family. Or hell, hire an assassin for all I care. You'd be more than justified." 

Jordan couldn't keep the scowl off his face. He snatched up the money and turned away from the ringleader. He forced himself not to stomp down the hallways of the ship, trying to keep a poised and composed facade. He really didn't want anyone to ask him what had happened. 

Thankfully, his roommate was gone for the moment. Jordan stuffed his clothing angrily into his bag, letting himself indulge in a bit of self pity noe that he was alone. Laying on the bed, he curled up around a pillow. This wasn't fair, he had done everything right, and still he couldn’t keep a job as a circus performer. 

He was sure Mellio would be rolling in his grave with laughter. 

There was a sharp banging on his door. Jordan stuck his tongue out at it petulantly, but gathered his stuff after it was clear the man wasn't going away. He tried to sneak the communicator past the guard, feigning that he didn't know if he could take it or not. The guard mercilessly shook his head, tucking it into the pocket of his shirt. "Can I please use it to tell my contacts that I won't have it anymore?" Bobby and Mack were the first people that came to mind, really the only ones that he would miss, but there were others, people that might be able to help him find a reputable gig. 

The guard huffed, but pulled it back out and handed it to him. Jordan gave him a grateful smile, tapping away at the screen to send out an en masse message. He hoped it would arrive before anyone started to wonder where he had gone. He hoped he'd be able to get into contact with everyone again soon. 

*******

Bobby was washing his hands when Mack stepped into the bathroom, frowning down at his phone, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He tapped at it a few times before growling and spitting into the sink. Bobby waited a moment, knowing he wouldn't have to ask what's wrong.

"Jordan's com have been canceled," he said after his mouth was clear. 

Bobby felt his eyebrows shoot up. "That doesn't seem in character," he said, the first thing that came to mind.

"Well, we're thinking on the same wavelength," Mack said. "What if something's happened to him?" 

A flood of possibilities flashed through his mind, but Bobby took a breath and stopped the flow in its tracks. "We can check the news, see if his ship or his troupe got into any trouble, but let's not call out a search party just yet."

Mack didn't seem to like this. "Why are you being the reasonable one?"

"Because the last time I jumped to conclusions I almost shot him." 

Mack tapped his finger to his chin in quiet contemplation as Bobby got ready for bed, but the paranoid thoughts wouldn't go away. He imagined that Jordan was in all sorts of trouble, his beautiful face marred by pain or tears. It wasn't something he wanted to see again. 

The phone rang clearly, pulling him back to full consciousness. Mack scrambled for it in the dark, the green glow illuminating his puzzled frown. "It says that he lost his job, and that he won't be able to contact us for a while." 

That set Bobby's hackles on the rise. He couldn't think of a single honest reason that would cause such a heinous circumstance. Jordan was the picture of professionalism, and even if the circus was falling on hard times he shouldn't have been the first on the chopping block. His suspicions were immediately raised.

Mack nodded to himself, tapping the screen to pull up some other contacts. "We need to know more about this," he said with the air of finality. Bobby knew he was sharing information about the situation, asking the others to keep an ear out for any related news. He tapped out some orders, then set the communicator aside, yawning and settling into the bed. Mack didn't seem too concerned by the lack of immediate response, so Bobby let himself relax against him, hoping they would have some answers in the morning.

*****

Jordan couldn't stop himself from watching as the ship flew off into the atmosphere, its engines streaking purple across the night sky. It was supposed to give the people of the outer rim one last spectacle as it flew away. He turned away as the last bit of purple faded, dragging his feet as he made his way to the living district of the town. This planet specialized in plant growing, maybe being surrounded by the beauty of forests and flowers would help him get over it quicker, and perhaps he would find someone else to take him in. 

***

After two weeks on the trading post, he was starting to lose hope. He had a meeting with another representative in the bar, but by now, he didn't see much point. It was always the same, either the employers were shady and Jordan would turn them down, or they would be initially impressed with him only to check back in after a few hours to tell him that he wouldn't fit in with their troupe. Jordan didn't have the resources to figure out what was happening. He didn't even have a phone or comm to check what was going on with his employment profile. 

The woman who slid in across from him was slim, a corset cinching in her waist even as her collar flowered out around her throat. She gave him a kind smile with purple painted lips. "Jordan, yes?" They went through the usual spiel of an interview. Jordan was familiar enough with the questions at this point to think he was doing well.

But in the end the woman put her chin in her hand. "Listen," she said gently, and he already knew that was a bad sign. "You seem like a nice kid, so I'll tell you this because you don't seem to know." She turned her pad around and showed him his profile on the employment websites, his face staring back at him impassively. "You've been blacklisted." 

He couldn't help reaching and grasping at the screen, his eyes scanning the contents. It listed all of his previous experience, even had glowing reviews from his last job, but at the very end stated very clearly: 'Anyone found to be interacting with this person shall lose the support of the Gelsto corporation and its subsidiaries." 

Jordan took a deep breath, anger like he hadn't felt in a long time fighting its way to the surface. "I didn't know Gelsto was in the live entertainment business." 

"It's been a recent thing that they are branching out in," she said casually. "I don't know what you did to piss them off, it must have been one hell of a show." 

Jordan huffed. "I, um, worked for one of these 'subsidiaries,' ma'am," he said slowly. "They were cruel to me, so I left, but they... they don't like that." 

She nodded, seeming to take him in under her heavy eyeliner."Since it doesn't list a reason, I'm more likely to believe you. Whatever the circumstances, I can’t risk being blacklisted myself in these changing times." She stood up, but left a physical piece of paper on the table. "Once things have settled down, contact me, you could be a valuable asset." 

Jordan sighed. "Thank you for your confidence, ma'am," he said, "but I'm not interested in being an asset. I just want to perform."

She smiled, shrugged, then left him to himself. Jordan slumped at the table, resisting the urge to just slam his fists down like a child. It wasn't fair! He had no idea how they had found him and why they had decided to go after him in such an arbitrary way. Did Gelsto want him to die slow and painful on the street? That wasn't something Jordan thought the 'king of corporation's would be satisfied with.

Unless.... unless they had some other means. Was there a bounty? He had no way of checking without a communicator, not without drawing attention to himself. Suddenly he felt every hair on his body stand on its end. His eyes darted around the ratty dive bar. Pieces of scenarios flashed through his head: people dragging him in front of Gelsto so he could be killed by his own hands, or worse, putting him back in his cage to resume his 'services.' He cut that train of thought, already feeling his chest going tight with panic. 

He had to get off the planet, had to find somewhere safe. Find some place far away that didn't have the monitoring of the core planets, find people that wouldn't turn him in or rat him out.  
The only place he could think of was Bobby’s, of that bar with no cameras, of that bed with warm sheets. He knew they would gladly open their door for him, but he couldn't even think about putting them in that kind of danger. 

He put up his hood. He needed to find a hair salon, and a coat to cover his tattoo, and get himself a ticket to get on a ship to the outer rim. 

************

Mack walked out into the bar from the kitchen. He had, up on his pad, blueprints to expand it. Neither of them were cooks, but if they had a larger space, he was sure that they could find someone willing to make meals. They might even start handing out menus, who knew. 

Bobby was just getting ready to turn the sign over when there was a banging on the back door. Mack frowned. He looked through the peephole as quietly as he could, only to see Selim. He stood aside as the young man stepped in casually, a sideways smile on his thin face. "It's been a long time, Mack," he said, shaking his hand and then heading to the bar. 

"I'm glad you made it back planetside in one piece," Mack said, settling into the seat next to him. Selim was a traveler, always taking odd jobs and moving from mining planet to mining planet. "When did you get back?"

"Yesterday," he said. "Nice to see ya, Bobby, can I get a rum?" Bobby handed over the drink without fanfare, and the man shot it back. "Much as I missed your pretty faces, I came here on business. I got some information on the acrobat you're looking for." 

Mack immediately tensed in his seat. He leaned forward, motioning for Bobby to make another. "What have you got? Where is he?"

"No idea," he said, and Mack growled before he could continue. "Hang on, hang on, it's more important than that." He took the time to finish his drink. "The kid's got a bounty on him." 

"What?!" Mack couldn't help raising his voice. There were many things he was expecting, but that certainly wasn't one of them. Words started flying out of his mouth almost without his consent. "Who? Why? How? Where is he?" A cold sweat began to bead around his hairline as possibilities flashed through his mind.

"Someone pretty high up on the food chain if the bounty is to be believed," Selim said. He took out his black pad, the one often used by traders to keep track of illicit activities, in case there were hits out for their cargo, of course. "I don't have a fucking clue what he did, but it's got a lot of hunters giddy in their beds. They haven't found him yet, obviously. But if that boy is smart he would be on his way here." He showed them the bounty, it specifically stated that Jordan was wanted alive. That alone wouldn't have been all that interesting, lots of debtors and snitches were wanted alive, if it weren't for the fact that there was 2 million units next to his name. 

"What the fuck." Mack fell into one of the bar stools, while Bobby took the comm from his hands. That was actual company money, like people from the core planets money, Mack couldn't even think in those terms, they were so far out of his scope. "There's no way we can match that." 

"Yeah, no one person can," Bobby agreed, passing the pad back. 

"Okay," Mack said, drawing the word out in a long sigh. He forced himself to take a deep breath, focusing in on what they needed to do in that very moment. "We need to take down our notice before anyone else finds it. If Jordan thinks about coming here, we can't be projecting that on any channels. We have to talk to Don about the docks and making sure no corporations start sniffing around here. We need..." Bobby's hand wrapped around his own, and he paused to take another breath. 

Selim was still sitting here swirling his drink around, his face obviously scrunched up trying not to laugh. "I didn't realize this was so important." He pushed himself away from the bar. 

"Yes," Bobby confirmed, though it wasn't like Mack was doing a good job hiding it. He was usually better at this. "If you could, Selim, if you hear wind of anything relevant, pass it along our way?"

"And keep it exclusive, I take it?" He chuckled, already walking back toward the exit. "You don't have to worry about me, I'm not going to send a kid like that to a corporate mercenary." 

"If you see him, or see anyone who might have," Mack growled, his knuckles clenching under Bobby's grasp. "You find him and bring him here, 5,000 units." 

Selim nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Sure, how hard could it be to find a white haired city boy far from home?" 

*****

Jordan didn't know his way around a docking station. Even with his brown hair and his plain clothes, he knew he stood out. People scoffed in his direction, but the important thing was that they didn't look twice at him. He walked past the fancy cargo ships that were as big as a building, trying to keep his footing in the lower gravity. The far side, the louder side, led him over to the smaller personal ships, the ones that were making a pit stop before the headed off to the outer rim. Ships needed to be in the best shape they could, otherwise they might just get stuck in the middle of nowhere, and there would be no going back. He had to try and be smart about this. 

There were so many ways this could go wrong. The knowledge he had about ships was tantamount to being able to stop one if it was going to crash into orbit, which was probably something any of these people could do once they were five. He had to find someone who needed a cheap hand that wouldn't ask too many questions, but people who weren't invested in who was on their ship were usually the ones with shitty ships, or human traffickers. 

And if he killed his pilots in space, he wouldn't be able to navigate where he needed to go. 

He stopped at a single lane ship parked in the middle of two bulky S-classers. A woman was talking to someone in a dock uniform and tapping away at his board and there were two other people loading up small crates by hand, something that caught Jordan's interest. The woman saw him hovering and turned a golden eye toward him as she finished up with the customs man. "You got strong arms, stranger?" 

Jordan blinked at the straightforward question. "Y-yes, ma'am." 

"Well then, where are you heading?"

"Anywhere in the outer rim," he replied. 

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "You have to clean up after yourself, and keep track of all the crates. If you cook, you can stay for as long as you need."

Jordan blinked at her as she swept towards the ship. He followed after her, hoping that was what she wanted. "Are-Are you sure, ma'am?"

She shrugged. "If you're sleazy, then you'll be kicked out the trash shoot." Her heavy boots clanged on the entry ramp. She spun sharply and held out her hand. "I'm Sheral. We run perfume."

Jordan held out his hand. "Mack."

"Then, Mack, the first thing you need to do is set your stuff down and get those crates."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoooooo, it's been a while y'all. Let's get this going again!
> 
> Udunie edited this one, because I wanted her to see it first!

Jordan stared out of the window, trying not to think about how thin and fragile glass was compared to the dangers of space. Traveling had always been a joy for him, but there was nowhere to visit when in space. It was just being cooped up in the hull, when he wasn't hiding out in the smuggler's hideout that Sheral definitely didn't have. In between that, it was wandering around the hallways and cooking for the crew. Jordan wouldn’t say he had any particular skill at it, but they all praised him when he served the meals. He would save his secret for the night he was leaving: Salt and oil in the pans.

They were stopping at a fuel outpost before making it to the last leg of the journey. He had told Sheral that this was going to be the last part, and her crew had groaned about the cooking. 

He felt the ship jolt with the docking units, so he got up and got ready to go out. He knew it was safer to just stay in his room, but this would be the last chance to go anywhere for about a week. He had to go stretch his legs, or the others would find him contorting in the plumbing. 

Jordan had always thought that these sorts of places looked like they were the result of asteroids crashing into each other, or space junk. They were all hard, jutting lines and geometric shapes, like a poorly formed crystal around a grain of dust. They had landed on a side where he could see the outline of one lighted by the gas giant behind it. Dylan, one of the three crew that worked with Sheral and by far the strongest, was just finishing up with the orders for the fueling crew. He turned to head back into the ship, but stopped short when he saw Jordan. "Hey, you heading out?" 

Jordan hesitated. "Only if the others are," he said, compromising with himself. That would be much better. 

Dylan gave him a smile with white teeth. "Well, if you don't mind waiting a moment, Sheral and the rest will be out so we can join you." 

"Of course!" It was indeed only a few minutes until Sheral was there, dressed in her Sunday best, which featured bright blue overalls instead of the functional ones. 

They made their way down the convoluted 'streets' and shops, looking for a decent place to drink. Jordan told them that he would make sure that they would get back to the ship all right, since he still didn't like to drink that much, and he didn't have much money anyway. They all assured him that it would just be one drink. 

Jordan's eye got caught on a small clothing store, with mannequins sporting skin-tight fake leather and high collared tank tops. There was a jacket that reminded him of a vintage racer, and he would have loved to see what it looked like on him. 

Sheral saw him looking as the others stopped by a comms display. She looked him over and popped some gum loudly. “We have got to get you something better than that," she said. "Something that shows off those assets." 

Jordan flushed, that was the last thing he needed. "I couldn't afford even a cheap knock off of that." he deflected. Sheral was conscious enough to let it go. They passed by the shop without going in. 

The bar they settle on was sports themed, generally to appeal to the wide range of people that passed through. It was moderately busy and they got their drinks after waiting several minutes to order. Sheral and Dylan parked at the bar while the other two go to mingle with the people. Jordan decided to just sit with them, keeping his attention on the screens and trying to forget that he was on the run, at least for a little while. 

They spent an hour or two just sitting around, not needing to talk. A man pulled up the chair next to Jordan, even when there were three seats empty next to it. "Hey, what are you having."  
Jordan didn't want to say anything, so he just tipped his mudslide and took a sip in lieu of answering. But the guy didn't seem to take the hint. He scooted the chair closer, under the guise of getting a closer look at the drink. "Looks tasty, though I'm more of a hard liquor guy myself."

"I'm sure," Jordan said shortly. The man was a towering mass of hulking muscle and crude tattoos, instantly grating at Jordan, if there was one thing that drove him mad it was ill fitting tattoos. Jordan had taken years to make sure his were exactly right, placing them all along his limbs to extenuate his movements and the dips of his muscles. 

"If you let me buy you one, I can show you how to really enjoy it," the man offered, putting on his best shit-eating grin. He also had well looked after teeth, but they just made him look like a shark. 

"No, thank you," Jordan said, polite even in the face of this rude man. 

By now Dylan had noticed what was happening. He put his large arm around Jordan's shoulder, pulling him flush against his side. The chair was off-balance, but Jordan felt instantly safer. "This guy bugging you?" He said, loud enough for the man to hear.

Jordan watched as the man's face fell into a deep-seated scowl, looking much more natural to him than the false smiles. "I was just asking him for a drink, no harm done."

"Well take a hint," Dylan huffed. "He's with me." 

"I'll pay you 26k for him." 

Instantly, Jordan's stomach flipped, the sweet taste of his drink turning acidic in his mouth. He flailed on instinct, needing to get out and away. Dylan held him back, his hand squeezing at his forearm, and Jordan had no way of interpreting that until he said, "I think you better leave," he growled, sounding so threatening that it almost negated the relief Jordan felt. "And you best hope that I don't catch you anywhere near here by the time we leave."

Jordan didn't want him to leave, he would just make the same offer to someone else, and statistically, someone will take him up on it. The thought made him paralyzed, even as he saw the man slinking away. Dylan turned to watch him leave while Jordan was left staring at an empty chair. 

"It's all right," Dylan said, setting him back down on the four legs of the bar stool. "He was just being an asshole." 

"You can't know that," Jordan whispered, he couldn't seem to get his voice any louder.  
Dylan leaned forward so that they were more at eye level, his gaze full of concern. It loosened something in his chest to see it there, honestly. "Are you all right?" 

Jordan shook his head, laughing a little to try and shake off the seriousness of it. He couldn't bring himself to think about his childhood, let alone articulate it to someone he barely knew. "I... I just get a lot of those guys," he lied. "It's just.... how can they do that? Just casually offer to buy someone like that?" 

Dylan shrugged a heavy shoulder. "That's a separate species to us, only people who study them or are them can get it." 

"He shouldn't get away with it." 

"They're just words, Jordan." 

"Until they aren't," Jordan said, swallowing hard.

"Then it's the police’s problem." 

Jordan looked around, seeing what he expected. This place, this whole station, probably had five government officers, for thousands of travelers. He had never gone through places like this when he was with Mellio and his... Mellio's son, but they did have to go through customs and checkpoints before sailing off in a private vessel. He had had to stare at the ground because he couldn't bear to see the agents, not even looking twice at them, sending them all through without a suspicion. Never so much as a 'are you where you’re supposed to be?'

Jordan pushed away from the bar, his hand reaching into his pocket to pull out the money. "I think I'm done for the night," he said. 

"Then I am too." Dylan turned to tap Sheral on the shoulder, drawing her away from the ice skating competition. "Gonna take Jordan back. Have a good night." 

They walked mostly in silence, until they reached the ship. "Thank you," Jordan said. "For protecting me." 

Dylan smiled. "I'm just glad I could help.

*******

Mack narrowed his eyes at the new people that walked into his bar, three of them looking around at the decor and trying to be casual. They were dressed in jumpsuits, similar to the ones that dock workers lived in, but they were clean, and straight-backed. It was too late in the evening for sober people to be out and about, there was about an hour and a half until the moon flashes started coming down, so these people wanted something else. If everyone else hadn't been shitfaced, they would have drawn every eye in the room. "Welcome gentlemen," Mack said cordially, waving his hand across the countertop. "Just coming in from a shipment?" 

The one in the front, with clean hair and teeth that were too white to pass as anything other than expensive, gave him a pleasant smile. "Three planets down. You're mining company just ordered in a new supply line that we're going to set up."

"Really?" Mack said. He knew this already, it was hard to hide all the construction equipment that was coming from all over the galaxy. Their business had been booming over the last week, with all the influx of pay from drifters and miners looking to making a little extra on the side. It still made Mack antsy. Something was happening but it was too early to tell exactly what. 

"Yeah, we're probably going to be in for a couple months," the man said as his friends settled in beside him. "I'm Duff, by the way. We're trying to find the best places to fill the nights." 

"Nights here are a little wonky," Mack said. "People have warned you about the radiation, right?" 

"Yup," Duff said, popping his p. "Kind of limits what you can do if your off-hours huh?" 

"There are several places that offer up room and board as well as their usual wares, so you can check out some of those."

"Why don't you have some?" one of the other guys said.

Mack gave him an amiable smile. "I have other hobbies, and like to keep my own fun to myself." Letting them think what they wanted was always better than telling the truth. He just didn't like people staying here while he was sleeping. The luxuries of a good bed and a loving partner had made him a heavy sleeper, so no one got to see that except Bobby.

Duff ordered his drink and nursed it in his hand lazily. "Not a lot of entertainment besides drinking. When was the last time a show came into town?" 

This set Mack's hairs on end. They obviously weren't trying to be subtle. They were scoping out information, most likely because this was one of the last places Jordan was reported. "About a year ago," he said after a moment. "Had an honest to god circus roll through here." He took a drink of his own beer. "But the one before that was, I don't know, a decade ago." 

Duff scoffed. "Not the kind I'm looking for anyway," he said. "Just those traveling types, they're just so... sexy, ya know?" 

That made Mack scowl despite himself. "I'm not saying your wrong," he said after a moment, "Just a tad crude." By now others were listening on his conversation, the bar going quieter as regulars could tell something was going on. 

"Oh come on," he said, lowering his eyes coyly. "You never thought about it?"

"I've got all I ever want right here," Mack said with the straightest face he could muster, but others around him laughed, including Bobby, the traitor. But the show of comradery was appreciated. "You'll have to tell me when you do find something worth your attention." The man tipped his head forward, signaling his acceptance of that resolution. Mack decided it was time to pick and prod. "So where you boys from?" 

"Next planet over," Duff said. "We just came off another railway project for Gelsto."

"Is that what's going on out there?" Mack responded. "About time we got some decent transportation." 

"Yeah, It's a shame that we won't be about to reap the benefits. But you never know, we may stick around if the food is good."

If they did, Mack thought, and others like them, there might be room for some serious trouble. 

******

Jordan tucked himself in the alley across from the Bobby Mack bar. Staring out the window, he couldn't stop remembering that his face had been tacked up on the glass, with all the other bells and whistles that were on the circus flyer. He felt a pang stab at his chest when he knew that he would never have that again. It was too dangerous.

This was too dangerous. What was he thinking? There were records of him here, police reports, flight manifestos, witnesses. This place was now swarming with new people and construction and spies, there was no way he would be safe here.

He turned around, not knowing where he needed to go, he could figure it out when he got back to the docks. He hoped that Sheral was still there, even though it was more likely that she had left, she was a very punctual woman. 

There was a hand on his arm, the grip firm and terrifying. Jordan's breath froze in his throat, the air building up into a scream. He jerked forward, then fell backward, catching himself when his attacker's hand came loose in surprise. He flipped himself over, landing on his feet facing away from the man. His hands fumbled on instinct for a knife, grabbing it and slicing back at the person before he even comprehended what was happening. 

The man had pulled away, dodging his blind swipe. Now they were apart, Jordan could see that it was Mack, holding his hands up in a placating manner. Mortification punched Jordan in the gut, and he dropped the knife, regretting it even before it hit the ground. His relief was premature, he knew, there was no telling what Mack was going to do with him. 

A smile spread across Mack's face when he saw that Jordan had stopped. He put a finger to his lips with one hand, then waved him closer, Jordan hesitated, pausing to pick up his knife before stepping forward. Mack reached behind Jordan's head to pull his hood back over his face. His movements were slow and careful, like he was coaxing a spooked animal, he made no move to disarm him. "I am so fucking happy to see you, darlin'," he said, relief coloring his voice so much Jordan didn't know what to do with it. "I was starting to think that... well, that the worst had happened, whatever that is." 

"I... I had to move around," Jordan admitted quietly. "I didn't know what was happening at first, then someone was kind enough to tell me that I had been blacklisted. I just assumed from there." 

Mack nodded. "There have been people looking for you here, clumsy spies that want your bounty. but they've mostly quieted down." He pulled Jordan closer, his eyes roaming around to scan the street behind him. "Go to the coffee shop across from the trading shake shop, no one is going to notice you hanging out there for several hours. Wait there until they close, then come back here. Wait until 10:48: not a moment more, then come to the back door. No one will see you coming in that late. The moon flares start at about 10:52, so don't be any later." He pressed something into Jordan's hand, and he looked down to see that it was Mack's comm tablet. "To keep you occupied," he said with a wink.

Jordan flushed, not knowing what to say. "Are you sure?" he asked at last.

"Of course. We need to make sure that you’re as safe as possible, running in the shadows is no place for you." He jerked his head back, gesturing down the alley behind them. "Now get gone, don't hang around here where people might see you." He squeezed Jordan's hand, gave him one more smile, then pushed passed him without looking back, leaving Jordan alone again.

His feet started moving even as his mind reeled at what had happened. His mind had been dead set on leaving just a moment ago, so now that there was something in his heart that was warring with this, thinking it both salvation and a trap equally. The eyes of everyone on the street were now like cameras. Any one of them could be the people looking for him. What if the family came to get him himself? But the likeliness of Elias coming out here was slim to none, and he was probably the only one who could recognize him like this. He wouldn't come to a place like this, even for Jordan.

Besides, Mack had trusted him with his comm. It would be rude to take it. 

The time spent in the coffee shop was maddening, and he was thankful for the comm, he was able to check in on news for once, and there were games already downloaded, basic puzzle ones that he could imagine Mack playing before going to sleep. The thought made his mouth tug into a smile. He didn't dare go through Mack's communications. Even though he knew that if there was something to hide, Mack wouldn't have given it to him in the first place. 

He wasn't looking for news on Gelsto, thinking that would be too obvious and set off some kind of alarm, but it turned out that he didn't have to. While opening a new tab, one of the main stories scrolled across the bottom. 'Gelsto's new head expands to the outer rim.' Jordan's finger hovered over the article, and the little preview expanded, showing him what he had been dreading. Elias, looking more gaunt than he had the last time Jordan had seen him, smiled in a long-distance shot, looking like he was about to board a ship. 

Seeing him made Jordan's insides clench with too many emotions to sort out. Even though this was new information, he couldn't say that he was surprised. Even after what he had done, there weren't a lot of people that would push this many resources into finding him. There must have been a major upstart to get him to the top of the food chain. 

"All right! Last call everyone needs to leave in five minutes!" A lot of people got up and went to the counter for a cup to go, but Jordan wasn't going to do that. He powered down the comm pad and placed it in his jacket. No one gave him a second glance as he walked out with the crowd. He waited until others started to peel off of the main street, heading to their homes and the dorms for the mines. He made to go off into the night, the opposite direction of the bar, and when the last person he was following disappeared into safety, he doubled back, trying not to run, The moon was up almost at its apex, mocking him as he walked the eerily empty streets. Signs still lit up, flashing like they would entice anyone. 

His heart started pounding when he caught sight of the bar, he risked the last few yards by sprinting behind it. The back door looked much like an old fashioned entrance, one that looked like it belonged on the front of a quaint little cottage in the country of a retirement planet, complete with a peephole right in the center. He knocked lightly on the real wood. He couldn't hear movement on the other side, was it soundproofed? He waited one moment, then two, and his mind was overtaken with thoughts that this was indeed a trap, that they mean to leave him out here to be eviscerated by the moonlight. 

The handle turned and the door swung open. Jordan practically fell in with it. Arms caught him, and before he knew it he was being pulled away and the door slamming behind him. He couldn't pull away to see who was holding him, and then there was another body bracketing him and it didn't really matter. His chest was so tight it felt like he couldn't breathe. He realized almost distantly that he was crying, and he tried desperately to keep his sobs back. It felt like he had been holding it in for a long time, even though he had felt nothing before this moment. Shame crossed his mind but now that he was done, he couldn’t find it in himself to care more than fueling his tears. 

"Hey, sweetheart, you're all right," Mack said from behind him, his hands rubbing soothing circles on his hips. "You've had a rough time of it, huh?" 

Jordan laughed wetly. "I really have," he agreed. He let himself be pulled over to the stairs, keeping him pressed against Bobby's side. He was placed in the bedroom, sitting down on the soft sheets. Mack left and came back a few minutes later and handed him a glass of water.

Once the last drop was down his throat, he wiped at his eyes. Bobby was sitting next to him on the bed, but Mack was standing in front of him, leaning against a chest of drawers. "Thank you," Jordan said. "Thank you so much." 

"Of course, Jordan," Bobby said softly, placing his hand on the small of his back. 

Mack looked like he was fighting off several emotions, trying to put on a 'business' face.' "Jordan," he said, just as quietly. "I know that there are people after you, some pretty powerful ones based on the bounty they have out on you, but other than that we're in the dark. We need you to tell us what we're up against."

It surprised Jordan how tempted he was to lie. He knew it would do nothing, he had always been horrendous, and on top of that, it would be a horrible way to repay them. But the way he said ‘we’ stopped that thought in his head. "I..." he started, his voice croaking out. 

He tried to start several times before Bobby cut in. "Let's start with a name. What company has it out for you?" 

That was much easier. Compartmentalizing: listing things off one at a time. "Gelsto," he said.

Mack half turned as if he'd been struck. "Fuck." Even Bobby's hand tightened on his shirt. Mack took a moment to compose himself again. "Is it some kind of compensation? Something you stole, or information..."

Jordan shook his head, his heart sinking at having to say no. "I wish it were that simple," he said, already feeling the phantom spray of blood over his hands at the memory. "I... The new head, I- I killed his father." 

More than anything, both of them looked surprised. "On purpose?" Mack asked. 

It was such a shocking response that it pushed a thin wet laugh passed Jordan's lips. "Yes." 

"Jesus, Jordan," Bobby said. "That's about the worst-case scenario."

"I'm sorry." His voice cracked on the words, and he felt tears threatening again. He tried to hold them off, they felt manipulating somehow. 

"Hey." Mack knelt down in front of him, his hands coming up to cup his face. "It's okay." His eyes flicked to Bobby, and the hand turned into a side hug as his arm came around. "So we still have some issues to face, big deal. What's important is that you're here, and you’re safe. Okay, sweetheart?" 

Jordan sighed, feeling like his strings were being cut. He collapsed into both of them, knowing he was falling into a fog of relief too soon, but helpless to stop it. "Thank you."


End file.
